The Cost Of My Dreams Ch 06

The Cost of My Dreams Ch. 06 - Outbound

This is a work of Erotic Fantasy. As such, it is not real and does not depict real events or any real person. All characters, businesses, institutions, places, publications, and events in this story are either fictional or are used fictitiously as you might expect in a story where slavery is legally enforced throughout the modern United States. All characters are adults.

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I'd been listening to Master Black practicing his cane strokes for a few minutes before I reported to my kennel area aboard Ares Rising to receive what I was due. My stomach was in a knot and I was shaking a little as I put on wrist and ankle bands and waited for Master Black to finish his practice.

"Control your whip, control yourself, control your slave," Master Peterson had taught him. Master Peterson had always emphasized correct form, which is difficult to maintain in zero gravity as, even with the aid of other restraints, the master has to actively restrain his own movement with one arm while wielding the cane with the other. Still, Master Black was doing an admirable job of administering just the right amount of impact on the practice dummy. This was going to hurt a lot and mark me, but not break the skin.

At his command, I unbuckled the dummy from the switching horse and put it into storage. I was, as always, slave naked so at least I didn't have to strip to prepare myself. Heart in hand, I approached the horse and used a bungee to lightly secure my belly against the main bar of the horse.

Master Black secured my wrist and ankle bands to fittings on the horse, adjusted my position, and used a strap around the horse and my body above the waist to hold me firmly in place.

"Why Star? Why are you being punished?" asked Master Black.

"Star is being punished for using corporate resources to stick her nose where it doesn't belong," I said. "Star is being punished because her idle curiosity led her to use Michael to investigate free people. Star begs for the instruction of the cane that she may learn to restrain her curiosity to more appropriate targets."

Master Black positioned himself carefully and I heard the cane cut thru the air. The impact didn't seem so bad when the cane hit, but then I experienced the afterburn and stiffed a moan.

He waited a bit and then delivered the second blow about the first. He almost immediately administered a third blow below the first and I gave myself to the pain, crying and moaning, the tears accumulating in my eyes. He gave a fourth blow, then a fifth as I cried but did not beg for mercy. Finally, he administered the sixth blow, released my wrist and ankle bands, and unstrapped me, taking me into his arms. It was a minute or so before I felt able to say, "Star thanks you for the instruction of the cane that she may learn to better control her curiosity and not offend free people."

He continued to hold me until I stopped crying, using a towel to absorb what would have been my tears had there been gravity to make them run as I blinked them out of my eyes. At least I was forgiven. I'd had several hours to contemplate this punishment.

It had been four months since Ares Rising had departed for Mars and I had been about to finish my two-hour morning workout in the ship's gym when Master Black entered and called me over to him. I unhooked from the equipment I was using and reoriented myself to his perspective, assuming, though floating, a kneeling position near his feet.

"Star," he said, "Gretchen Springfield sent a message suggesting you be caned for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. She claimed you used Michael to poke around in Ms Brown's sexual history and that of her lover. What, exactly, were you doing?"

"Master, Mistress Brown no longer exists. For the next seven years, the woman you knew as Ms Brown is only a female slave known as Two Seven Nine One."

"Excuse me, what? Start from the beginning."

"Master, you remember when Thunder developed slave mind? Star could never make sense of why that was allowed to happen, master. Star considered that if what happened to Thunder didn't make sense when considered in isolation, then it did not occur in isolation, master. When enough time had passed, this girl started to look at what had happened to some of the other people involved, master, and what might have been predicted as fallout from the event."

"I'm coming to understand why Mister Peterson emphasized the difficulty of managing slaves that have to think for their masters. What did you find?"

"To start with, master, although the woman I knew as Mistress Brown and as slave Two Seven Nine One was manumitted a few weeks after we left for Mars, master, she is currently serving a seven-year indenture and is owned by Master Harold Booth, formerly of the Martian Exploration and Colony Company."

"And how did she end up in a seven-year indenture? And ease up a little on the slave speak."

"Yes, master. Shortly after she was manumitted, she started dating a man named Master Andre Lee. From what Master Michael was able to gather, this man is a major player, master. He attended the best schools, owned a two hundred thousand dollar car at age eighteen, and currently owns at least four expensive homes. It's hard to be sure, but he's associated with at least nine women who were enslaved following reversible auctions that were not reversed. In two of those cases, it's almost certain he was the one who didn't reverse the auction. All of the nine enslaved women he was definitely associated with were doing well financially but were not truly rich. One was a doctor. One was an Engineer with multiple patents to her name. All would have been missed by the organizations they formerly worked for, master.

So, master, after Mistress Brown is manumitted, he shows up. He drives the most expensive cars, gives expensive but thoughtful gifts and Master Michael has verified that he took Mistress Brown VIP to exclusive shows and on an expensive vacation. Star speculates that he convinced her that he loved her and, at some point, he convinced her to sign up for a reversible auction, possibly as a means of getting past her experience with slavery or as proof of her trust in him, master."

I thought about how that must feel, knowing you had been betrayed and were now sold to a man who had decided to collect you. Still, she'd been to the Sharks; she was well familiar with serving men who were beneath her standards when free.

"How does this relate to Angela's slave mind?"

"Master, it was predictable that Mistress Brown would be punished for her actions. Star would have guessed Mistress Brown would be fired, which would make Master Lee's attention to her that much more appealing as her life spun out of her control, but after three months of slavery, she was probably very vulnerable anyway. Slavery messes with your mind, master. One can, at the same time, enjoy serving those who would have been beneath one's notice when free and still long to be treated as a treasured partner by one who is your equal or superior. While Two Seven Nine One seemed to enjoy serving janitorial staff, she was probably ready to be treated like a princess and Master Lee may have convinced her that she needed to face her status as a formerly enslaved person so she could move on from it, master."

"That seems a little weak as an association. How did Booth end up owning her?"

"Master, records indicate she was purchased by Master Booth at her reversible auction. While it is possible to possible to place an auction watch for a particular person, especially if you have her SIN, Master Michael has found a picture of Master Booth and Master Lee together at a public event last year, master."

"How did Mister Marshall react to losing Ms Brown?"

"Star does not know at present, master."

"What happened to Thunder?"

"Thunder is currently under a protective enslavement order and is owned by her parents but is no longer being treated for slave mind, master. Presumably, there is no point in further treatment. In such a case, protective enslavement can be converted to regular enslavement, allowing her sale, master."

"Star, you are a slave, livestock not human. You cannot poke around in the affairs of free people. Especially, you cannot use corporate resources to poke around in the affairs of free people. If Andre Lee is everything you believe, he is still a free person and your superior. You are out of line and the corporation is doubtless pursuing these inquiries without your help. I understand your interest but Michael's purpose is not to indulge your idle curiosity about free humans. I don't need Gretchen Springfield in my email and I do not, we do not, want to be micromanaged. Make no further inquiries that require Michael to make inquiries or go on image searches. You are also to make no inquiries by email. You may have Michael monitor routine news reports transmitted to us, but that is all. Except for that, you must drop this matter. Report to your kennel area for correction area at 1430 hours. You ought to have known better."

"Yes, master, this girl supposes she should have."

"But?"

"But Star is having a hard time accepting that Thunder was just pissed away, master. Please forgive Star, master."

"I don't think you understand just how unpleasant and inconvenient your behavior could become for me and the rest of the crew if it continues. Equip yourself with wrist and ankle bands when you report at 1400. I will forgive you, but I will correct you first, for your own protection and improvement."

"Yes, master."

After that little conversation, I finished my workout and washed with damp towels and no-rinse soap. I then checked the schedule and went to the maintenance vehicle access rooms to try and diagnose what the hell Mistress Gonzales had done to the guidance system of the first maintenance vehicle.

Yesterday, Mistress Gonzales had been testing the vehicle systems in preparation to take it out and fix an issue with a power system. Instead, the whole guidance system had gone unresponsive. Nothing we did seemed to help and all of the hardware diagnostics came back normal. We had ended up referring the matter to mission control, but they had been unable to reproduce the problem. They had Master Michael run thru a set of custom checks. I had thought on the matter and was going to run thru a few more checks this morning, notwithstanding the distraction of my impending punishment.

In the end, trying to work on the problem but distracted by the thought of the swish of the cane heading to my ass, I cheated a little. I invoked the function of one of the bespoke chips implanted in my brain.

"Master Michael, it is 1030. Master, this girl requests that you invoke the concentrate function for one hour."

"Your next scheduled event is to serve a meal at 1200," said the AI. "This will leave you with about a half hour from the end of the concentrate function until your next scheduled event. One hour is the maximum allowable invocation of the concentrate function. Are you sure you wish to do this?"

"Yes master," I said and much of the world receded while I worked on the Scorpio 7 mod 2 maintenance vehicle. I went thru check after check but got nowhere. It seemed like no time at all before I came back to myself and noticed I needed to stretch. I was, at least, in a lot better shape than I had been the first time I'd tried the function.

I spent a couple minutes stretching and then checked email before preparing to serve what to me was the midday meal, though to Master Jefferson it was quite literally a midnight snack. He liked to break up his sleep period anyway, and, like most free persons, enjoyed being served by a slave who knew herself such.

I had some personal email from FINO Cloud (Cheryl) and FINO Rain (Susan). Slave service had proved to be so much of a morale booster at Eagle base and on the two space stations that Cheryl and Susan had been persuaded to enter into corporate FINO contracts to provide slave services for a full six months after their indentures ended, while the Martian Exploration and Colony Company attempted to recruit qualified candidates for the new "Slaves in Space" program.

FINO Cloud stayed at Eagle base on the lunar surface and FINO Rain alternated between the construction station and the lunar gateway station. There were news articles about how civilized these stations now seemed, now that slave services were available. One magazine had a cover with Cheryl kneeling, serving three crew members at Eagle base, with the title "Slaves in Space: Bringing Civilization to the Frontier." With the payments accumulated in trusts, Cheryl and Susan might never need to work again, and part-time slavery (even if it was most of the time) was a good introduction to returning to freedom. We exchanged email and they kept me up to date about what was going on at the stations and warned me about some of the things I would have to watch out for when my indenture ended.

"Slaves in Space" was being managed by another one of the executives who had run cover for Master Booth and been forced to accept a three-month indenture and training at the Sharks. While becoming slave sexual had doubtless been a life-changing experience for Master Young, he had demonstrated the wisdom of Master Marshall's choice of punishment by converting his experience as a slave into a key qualification for his new role.

The blatancy of the program was astounding. Why limit yourself to competing against the most qualified people on earth to get a shot as an astronaut when you could also sign up for Slaves in Space and compete against a much smaller pool of applicants for, it must be said, a much smaller number of positions? Why not do both if you want to be an astronaut so bad? My dad was right; they were selling slavery as a path to glory.

After checking my mail, I straightened myself out and went to the wardroom to serve my masters and mistress.

As Master Black, Master Jefferson, and Mistress Gonzales entered and strapped themselves into chairs facing a triangular table, I heated their food and fetched drinks for them when they asked. When not serving them, I secured myself to the same surface the table and chairs were mounted on, kneeling with my knees spread. While sometimes I ate slave kibble on my own, more usually one of the masters or the mistress would hand feed me people food, which was what happened this time. Master Jefferson had an extra meal with an extra drink. He scooped food with his fingers and I sucked and licked the food from his fingers. (If the meal had been something in a tortilla, he would have held it while I nibbled at it with my hands held behind my back.) When he held a drink bag out for me, I took the straw in my mouth without attempting to touch it with my hands.

I was also not usually allowed to talk during these meals and I was not permitted to talk on this occasion. I was, after all, livestock, and this was just one more way of reminding me of that fact. I served in silence and tried to express my gratitude for human food through my expressions and behavior.

After the meal, I brushed my teeth and prepared for a session with Mistress Gonzales in her quarters, a small private chamber where she slept and received sexual service from this slave. I equipped myself with wrist and ankle bands and a slave belt, gathered a few sundry items, and reported for her service. When I entered her quarters, I positioned myself in what would have been a kneeling position if there had been anything to kneel on near her feet.

"Michael," ordered Mistress Gonzales, "activate my libido chip at level two and stop all monitoring in this chamber until Star leaves it."

"Your libido chip is activated at level two. All monitoring will cease until Star has left the chamber," said the AI.

Mistress Gonzales relaxed and stripped off her coverall and floated before me naked except for the collar she and Master Jefferson wore as the backup slaves and her body harness. I removed my wrist and ankle bands and passed them to her, and she bucked them snuggly in place. I removed my slave belt and buckled it on her. Mistress Gonzales was a naughty girl; she liked me to dominate her and treat her like a slave for these sessions. Yet another free woman who liked to play at being a slave.

I clipped her wrist bands together behind her back, clipped a spreader bar between her ankle bands, and put her in a slave hood, which covered her eyes and upper face but had a hole for her nose. I secured her harness with two bungees to hold her in place and then commanded "Open."

She opened her mouth and I secured a gag with a pad that went inside her mouth in place, then added a set of headphones that were already programmed to play brown noise when activated, then turned them on and checked the time. She liked this portion of our session to last about fifteen minutes.

I realized I had forgotten to bring a vibrator and opened the door, checked the area outside, then went to my kennel area and retrieved the vibrator, returning to her room and closing the door behind me.

I started caressing her, kissing her breasts and licking my way down her belly. When I got out the vibrator, she started to buck.

I removed her headphones and said, "You are a naughty girl, mistress. Does mistress desire sexual release?"

She grunted into her gag and I undid it, wiping the spit away from her mouth with a towel. "Do you beg sexual release, mistress?" I asked.

"Yes mistress," she said. "Five Two Nine Eight" begs sexual release from Star."

I teased her some more and asked a variation on a standard question with a standard answer "Does mistress belong in the collar?"

"Yes mistress, Five Two Nine Eight belongs in the collar and is properly enslaved," she replied.

I ran her thru a few other slave mantras, having her affirm her fitness for the collar and her desire to serve me. Then I brought her home with my tongue and held her while she came back to herself. Then I removed her slave hood and unbound her.

"I can see why you don't like using the libido chip," she said. "My need is still unfulfilled."

"It, and the horny juice, are tools used to acclimate women to slavery, mistress, and to make their chains lie easier upon them. Once this girl accepted that slavery was not just her life, but part of her identity until manumission, and embraced the life of a slave, it was no longer necessary, mistress. While Star is a slave, she is a slave and will act as a slave."

"What about the male slaves?"

"Males need no horny juice, mistress. Sometimes they need erectile dysfunction medication. Rarely a chastity device is used to frustrate them into accepting that they are slave sexual, mistress, but that is not commonly needed."

"They truly are just pigs, aren't they?"

"Mistress might not think so if she was truly enslaved. This girl would not dare to think so, mistress."

"You enjoy their attention, which may be why you ended up in the collar," she said. " I would never beg for male attention as you do."

And I had only liked men, but a slave must adapt and serve. Slavery wasn't a game for me, as it was for her, but how could I explain that without insulting her?

When you realize you're in a hole, stop digging. "Mistress, this girl begs the correction of the shock collar for imagining that mistress would ever crave the attention of males."

"Not this time, slave, but, in the future, watch your mouth."

"Yes mistress," I said. After I left, I started reviewing the problem with the power system and the fix that was needed until the time arrived for my correction from Master Black. After I had recovered from my caning, I continued to review it until kennel time.

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